Clairvoyance
by Bligthe
Summary: A trepanned skull. A clairvoyance teenager. An aristocrat rapist. A cannibalistic serial killer running a corrupted cult. The enemies are more than what they appear to be.
1. 1: Wan-weird

**Summary:** "So let me get this straight. You want me, to be bait, pretend and lure a suspected rapist to come out of his shell and expose who he really is?All for free?" "Hopefully, yes." "...Can I beat the shit out of him afterward?"

**Warnings:** AU. Smut later on. Graphic language. Violence of course. And HUGE amounts of OOCness. There will be angst!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Not bleach, nor the characters. (So much sadness)

**Setting:** Los Angeles, California in Bligthe's Imaginary Universe/ **Time:** Present

**Story Plot:** Ichigo struggles with his self-identity after he looses grip on the last thing tied to his deceased mother. As he struggles to distract himself from his life's problems, an odd man with a hole in his skull offers him a chance to help create evidence to imprison a suspected rapist, all with out pay. He accepts. Little does he know that the enemies more than what he appears to be.

* * *

******Clairvoyance-Chapter One**

**_n._**

******Wan-weird:**An unhappy fate

* * *

Kickboxing. I loved it. It was my passion. My life. It was a part of my soul, memories, childhood. I could give you pages and pages of my feelings towards the sport, but I wouldn't because that's just a waste of my time. But, yeah, I love kickboxing. The thrill of bruised knuckles pounding tendering flesh. The smell of blood. The high from the adrenaline pumping through heated veins. And the memories of my mother.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm no psychotic sadistic bastard. Honestly. I just can't help but love the sport for those particular reasons. Ever since I was a child, my mother encouraged me to learn to fight, to learn how to protect and defend.

She told me that _"if you love something, you should be able to fight for it" _. That type of thing is often heard in those cliché movies or television shows. But coming from her, it felt like it had a whole other meaning. Well, at that time it did. But now, it's things like that what reminds me of how useless things are turning out to be. _"...if you love something, you should be able to fight for it..."_ But what if that thing I want to fight for is something I can no longer continuing pursuing? I want to ask her, so _desperately_ ask her, what should I do? It's right there in front of me, but I physically can not do it. My body has given up on me. But I can't of course ask her. She's _dead_.

My mother, Masaki Kurosaki, is dead.

And my current condition will seem to remain forever unresolved. It's not like I can talk to ghosts or something*.

When she left, my whole world shattered. The ideal family image we held dispersed. My father, Isshin Kurosaki, shifted from the supportive father figure to a distant workaholic who is hardly ever home except Sunday evenings or holidays. Karin, my little sister, is slipping in her academics, her dyslexia becoming a huge hindrance. And Yuzu, Karin's twin sister, oh bless her. It's a miracle how she was able to care for us until now. Four years, she's replace mother's role in the family and taken care of both me and Karin! Though I am ashamed to say that I'm a 17 year old teenage boy being taken care of by a 13 year-old, I'm still proud of her.

But not of my father.

Though he has quite a reputation in his working field for managing some rich-people restaurants, he is a pathetic excuse for a father. He's never home to spend to time with his own children. He neglects Karin's critical need to help with her worsening dyslexia personally, and instead, asigns some useless, lazy son of an ass to help her. And when he comes home, he's all hyped up, _fucking rainbows and unicorns,_ acting as if his absence at home was never ever a problem when he knows damn right it is. Yes, he's working hard out there so we can live a good life, go to one of the best schools there is in the state, and enroll in some pristine college so we can graduate and live a dignified life. But is spending more time with his own children really that harmful to his work?

I'd say that old bastard was also pretty psyched when he heard I couldn't fight in kickboxing anymore. Let me explain my condition, right here and now then. Four words. Scapholunate ligament dynamic tear. The scapholunate ligament that connects the scaphoid to the lunate in the wrist is completely torn or stretched to the point that it can't do its job. In my case, the scapholunate is completely stretched. And although surgery was able to repair it, it never reverted back to normal leading to my inability to continue in my kickboxing career and my early retirement as a rookie.

Now, what does that have to do with my father. Simple. Father's always disliked my obsession with kickboxing, he used to complain and argue with my mother that it was becoming a distraction in my studies, that I wasn't able to focus on my academics. Of course, me and my mother paid no mind. Mother continued to support me, with father in the sidelines. And his dislike for my passion in kickboxing grew after my mother's death. But I was stubborn. I wasn't going to give up on kickboxing, never. It's what felt like the only thing I had left of mother. 3 years, I fought, I challenged, defeated those who dared to try and push me off my pedestal. Until last year where I met my end, and was forced to retire and leave my place as the "Orange Rookie" of Vizard of the Mask: Kickboxing program (ridiculous, right?). So far, it's been a full year. Summer is reaching it's in, meeting it's fateful end to autumn, we're in our last weeks of July.

"Ichigo. Are you brooding?" Chad said.

"Shut up." Was my simple answer.

Chad rolled his eyes and lightly tapped the top of my head. "Boss finally let me off my shift. So you done moping around and ready to leave? Or do I have to watch you glare at me for the rest of the evening?"

I sighed. "Fine, fine. Let's go."

With that, Chad hooked his duffel bag around his neck. Noticing the heavily built man's luggage, I decided to take in the sight of Chad's outfit, analyzing him. Bleached white wife-beater, his floral button up top slung over his already occupied shoulder, black gym shorts with a white pinstripe on one side. Although Chad was wearing his green-camo beach sandal, I could guess the other male's next destination.

"Vizard's practice huh?" I gave him a lop-sided smile.

"Yeah." Chad replies, "Hachigen and Love wanna try and improve my speed."

I chuckled. He always had problems with his speed. All that muscle tends to backfire with some weight to slow down his speed. "Good-luck with that buddy."

Chad makes a sour face, and I bust out laughing, Chad later joining in. Soon, after taking two buses, we're in front of his destination. I gaze up on the glowing red and yellow letters of the building's sign. " Vizard of the Mask: Kickboxing Program". I scowled. I need to go, now, before I get all emotional and drag myself back in there with force. Chad seemed to notice my struggle, because when I turn to him to salute him good-bye, he's giving me a knowing look. My scowled deepens and I open my mouth to oppose before he says anything, and failed when he started talking first.

"Say hi to Shinji." I want to curse him. "You know how Shinji gets when he hears that you've stopped by and didn't say hi."

I huff. "Bastard."

Yeah, I know. Shinji goes ballistic when I don't "treat him with respect and give a good old hey there" often. And when I mean ballistic, I mean foot in gut, missing nails, and patches of exposed scalp ballistic. Fucker's insane. Chad's smiling a bit as I follow his past the push through door. After a bell-chime echoes through the room, it's all down hill from there.

Flash of green. And before I can reacted, two slim arms curl around my waist and squeeze, then sly fingers dance on my clothing covered rib cages. A horrible outburst of bordering giggle-like laughs escape me as I try and squirm, panic, and wiggle away. A high pitch giggle joins my own fit of laughter.

"Berry-tan!" Mashiro squeals and officially jumps me. All protests are muffled by her signature cashmere bandana scarf, which usually varies in color day by day, today is orange. "We match!" And she finally releases me.

Mashiro Kuna. Crazy, hyper little odd-ball never told me her age. She was a very fashionable petite girl(or woman). She sported that lime green hair, just as crazy bright as my own, with blue circular goggles set atop of her crown, which she would randomly wear over her hazel brown eyes at times. Course, she's a fighter here. A pro-fighter might I add.

"Hey there gal." I greeted and she squeals again and runs off calling everyone else to "come and say hi".

Seconds later, a small, scrawny little blonde girl makes her way out of what I knew before was the equipment room. Her face is scrunched up in a sour scowl, but I still recognized her, even with her face all wrinkled up from being a sour puss. "Long time no see, Hiyori." I give her my best smile, as if her expression wasn't bothering me at all.

Hiyori Sarugaki. 15 years old and from what I remember, she was an Amateur lightweight kick-boxer of the young women's division. As said before, she was blonde, her hair held up in their usual two spiky pigtails with some hair-clips to pin her hair out of her face. Hiyori also had pronounced, dark freckles under her eyes and protruding canines, both features that led to me and my old manager, Shinji, calling her either "freckle face" or snaggle-tooth". Hiyori was also ill-tempered and had a filthy tongue for profanity.

She bristled. "What's the rotten berry doin' here?"

"Visiting. Saying hi." Chad answers shortly.

Hiyori clicks her tongue. "Well, it's useless. Some of us too busy to be saying hi to some washed out, weak-ass trash like you."

Ouch.

"Hiyori." Chad warns. "Watch it there, kiddo."

He's right. I knew that Hiyori always disliked me, sometimes to an extant where she goes overboard with her insults. I was always able to put up with it, and it was against everything I believed in to hit women, girls, all females alike. But still, I'm raging inside.

"Ichigo and me both know it's true. Can't fight anymore, so the rest of us who can, he's wasting our time just by saying hi. I replaced you! I'm the next rookie now!Che, you weren't that good of a fighter back then anyways you rotten-"

"Flatsy!" A familiar voice chimed about. "Watchu doin' there spilling filth up from yer mouth? Eh? Keep that up and the only thing that's gonna get big on ya is that head, not yer chest."

I beamed, happy to see my savior from this ridiculous argument, Shinji Hirako. He was my kickboxing manager before my retirement, and a damn good manager too. Shinji has brown eyes and jaw-length blonde hair and fringe style bangs with an asymmetrical cut, different from his old horizontal straight-edge bangs. No matter. From what I saw, he was still the same old Shinji. Lazy, slurring slang and that odd smile that tends to show only his upper teeth in the creepiest way. And that playful tone of a mischievous joker, always looking for the opportunity to prank someone go by and catch it.

Shinji was glaring a Hiyori as he loosened up his forest-green tie and untuck his white button up collared long-sleeves from his beige khakis.

Hiyori flushed. "P-Pervert!" She screams at him.

Shinji scrunches his nose and flicks Hiyori's forehead. "Fuckin' gnat. Don't be goin' around, thinkin' yer all high and mighty just 'cause ya had this tiny winning streak. Dumbass, that ain't freakin' nothin'. You ain't have no talent kid, so ya gotta work hard for them wins."

"He's right," Kensei squeezes himself in the conversation.

Kensei had that look of a delinquent if he wasn't like in his middle twenties or something( all this time, I don't even know his age). Kensei is a tall, muscular man with sharp features, silvery-gray hair mussed up in a mohawk like fashion. Add that with the piercing on his left eyebrow and the three other ones on his left ear, and you got yourself the appearance of what elderly people would call a "delinquent".

Good ol' Kensei. My old coach slash adviser. Tough shitty bastard. He was one of those hard-core coaches, screaming at you at your weakest point and laughing at you when you were at your strongest. But he was the best coach/ adviser I had ever had. Even if his work outs were a little over the top.

He spares me a brief greeting before going on with his sentence.

"Kurosaki here, though, has had a natural talent for fighting." Kensei then gives me a look. "Care to demonstrate to the rookie here?" Ironic, because back then, I was a rookie too.

I shook my head. "You guys must be busy. I wouldn't want to hinder you all more than I already have."

The skinny blonde lets out a loud 'HA', but Shinji slaps the back of her head as punishment. Kensei didn't bother to pay attention to them. "You're not bothering an of us. Right now, we're on break."

"Think of it as entertainment!" Mashiro pipes up, giving a few kicks as if she was emphasizing her point.

Next thing I know, Love Aikawa, Hachigen Ushoda, Lisa Yadomaru, and Rojuro Otoribashi( we call him Rose though) joined the rest of us.

"Besides, this talentless rookie needs to learn true talent." Lisa gives Hiyori a snide smirk.

Hiyori attempts to kick Lisa, but Shinji prevents it by putting Hiyori in a head-lock.

Lisa, Love, Hachigen, and Rose. I didn't know the rest of them quite well, often we would cheer each other on, exchange advises, or express our minor problems. Simple things like that. Even though, I still felt that familiar tug towards them, like they were a second family.

Lisa has that look of a young adult woman (her age was never mentioned around me, nor did I ever bothered to ask) with turquoise eyes, red oval glasses and long black hair. She sports mussed bangs in the front and a long braided ponytail straight down her back. I noticed that she must have changed out of her work-out clothes and into a familiar sailor-like uniform. Then I remembered that she goes to some advanced night class program thingy. How impressive. But then I remembered that time where Love caught her reading an erotic manga in the resting room.

Speaking of Love, he steps forward, bring a dummy behind him. He positions it in front of me, leans on the dummy with his arm on it shoulders as he rearranges his mirrored sunglasses. He had this crazy, spiked up fro pointed out in the shape similar to a star and bushy sideburns that annoyed me every time I look at them.

" A simple kick would suffice." He pauses, pretending that he was in deep thought. "How about one of your signature kicks, or your finishing moves maybe?"

Hachigen starts failing around, as if something's excited him. "Getsuga Tensho!" He almost wails. This surprises me. Hachigen Ushoda, was usually a calm, large and round, middle aged man with pink cropped up hair and a matching mustache. "Getsuga Tensho!" Hachigen repeats.

Stunned, I held up my hands in defense and obey. "Okay, Hachi!"

Now they're smiling and laughing. Well, expect for Hiyori whose pouting in Shinji's headlock. Honestly, I don't see what's to get worked up over a kick. Or a forty-five degree roundhouse kick to be exact. I shed my backpack before I start stretching my legs and my torso. I pause in each stretch, relishing the brief tension of my muscles, reminiscing and sighing on how long its been since the last time I had done this. I then take a moment to analyze the dummy, it's position, height, mass. Whatever. They distance themselves to the point where they're at a safe distance from the practice mat in the demonstration room. I take my stance, and in simple movements, I swung my leg in a semi-circular motion towards my target, landing the attack on the torso area of the dummy.

Upon my foot meeting its side, the dummy flies off it's feet, ricocheting off, and landing in a stand for weights that appeared to be only for décor. There's a brief pause before Hiyori grunts. Then the Vizard fighters are applauding.

"Seems like nothings changed." Kensei comments. "Still a killer kick you got there."

"I doubt that. I haven't been working out as much as I used to." It's true. My work out sessions have been reduced to running. I can't work on my upper arms strength because of my left, which was the one to be injured. But even running seemed tedious, because if I move my arms for too long, my wrist begin to burn. But I believed that to be all in my head, because it just seemed to be a bit too ridiculous if my wrist started hurting after a little arm movement from running.

"Well, the dummy proves otherwise." Kensei gestures a nod of his head towards the fallen dummy.

Love and Hachigen are putting the dummy back on it's feet, Hachigen putting up a show of effort as if the thing was heavy. Now, my doubts are beginning to clear. Rose helps Love and Hachigen turn the dummy so that it's back may face me and Kensei's direction. Rose then points at something on the nape of the dummy's neck, smiles and repeatedly tapped the etched in symbols.

100 lbs.

I sputtered nonsense. My eyes were as wide as they could possibly be. Rose started laughing.

"Is it really that shocking?" He smiles.

"Yeah, so what if the berry could kick a hundred pound dummy off its feet. Anyone else in here can do that." Hiyori snarls.

"Dumbass." Shinji headlocks her again, this time giving her a knoogie. "Ichigo quit his old work out routine and only sticks to running nowadays. If anyone else were to do that, any of our kicks wouldn't send that dummy flying off like Ichigo had done." Shinji releases her. "Stop talking stupid kid and go do some shit."

"You shut it." Hiyori grumbled. "Just 'cause he got some talent kicks doesn't mean anything. It's useless when he can't even fight properly. It's reason like his dependence on his talents is what got him into that lame fuck accident. Can't even fucking fall on his own hands or catch a hit with his bare hands correctly. Overall, good fucking-"

"Hiyori!" Kensei snarls. Oh fuck, now he's lost it. "You think your all fucking that huh? Talking a bunch of bull like its a fucking political badmouthing party huh?" He glares at Hiyori as she flinches at the end of each sentences. "Well, do you think you can back up what with all the useless fucks you call words? Huhh? This ain't no fuckin' debate party, you grimy scum! This is fuckin' kickboxing! So you gon' keep talkin' or what?"

Pfft. Hiyori barely even managed a nod. "Then get yer ass back over to them weights! Screw aerobics. You're weight-lifting today! 20 each arm! Now move it Freckles!" Hiyori already left before he could even get to the 'move it' part.

Kensei cackles at the sight of Hiyori fleeing the room, of course, me and Shinji are laughing along with him. It took a while for us to calm down. By then, Lisa already left and Hachigen, Love, and Chad had started their session. Rose, Shinji, and Kensei bother stay a bit before tending to Hiyori's session. I have no idea where Mashiro disappeared off to.

"Yo, Ichi." Shinji called.

I turned to him. "Yeah?"

"We heard from Chad that you still work out and stuff, right?" Shinji said.

"Yeah, I figured that you knew somehow when you mentioned it earlier." I replied, wondering where the hell this conversation was going.

"Well, some of us have been thinking..." Rose trails on. The guy never hardly ever seemed so reluctant. Yeah, sure, he was a laid-back kinda of guy, but he was also a bit of a narcissist. He was always tending to his looks if he wasn't helping new members, brushing that blonde wavy hair like he got nothing better to do.

"It's okay if you want to work out here." Kensei finishes simply. "Forget what that stupid brat says. You don't bother any of us."

"And to be honest," Shinji flicks my temple. "We miss ya, Berry-tan."

I snorted, rubbing the inflicted area. "Well, yeah, I'll think about it. It does seem convenient since my wrist start hurting after being out in the cold for too long."

"So that's a yes!" I jumped at Mashiro's intrusion into our conversation.

I rolled my eyes. "It's a maybe Mashiro."

Mashiro pouts and Kensei attempts to console her by rubbing the top of her head, avoiding the goggles. Shinji nudged my side with his elbow, as if gesturing me to do something to make this situation better. Great, now I feel bad.

"But I'll make sure to visit weekly. Maybe the weekends." I give in.

I swear, Mashiro's eyes fucking sparkled like she had bedazzled eyes. I try not to cringe at how it freaked me out a bit. Kensei, I don't know, but it seems like he noticed because he started cackling again. I offered to leave, and they reluctantly agree, with both Shinji and Kensei having to deal with the impatient Hiyori. I say my goodbyes and try my best to peel away from the sobbing Mashiro. After that, I left.

My house wasn't to far off from the Vizard's building. But I still take the bus. I'm in no mood to walk and I don't trust the streets right now since the evening grew darker by the minute. Visiting them was nice and everything but... but that little devil. That demon. That...ugh! Everything she said just ticked me off. And what pissed me off even more was that fact that everything she had said was agreeable. I am in the least bit thankful she didn't include my mother in this at that time, considering that she knew of what happened to her. But still... She was all right. I had good endurance, monstrous amount of stamina, and my leg strength was deemed incredible. I also had good analyzation skills and sly tactics and maneuvers that won me almost every competition I entered.

But it was things like landings after getting hit and the way I blocked, and my posture is what I lacked in. At that time, I didn't care about those things, no matter how much Kensei told me it was essential, I relied on my talents and brute strength. Not once did I include the way I support or held myself as a essential fighting requirement. And to this day, I can't help but laugh at it like it's some joke, how ridiculous it was that a simple fall on my wrist lead to my permanent early retirement from kickboxing. Fucking ludicrous. All of this.

Soon I arrive home, negative thoughts still plaguing my mind. In front of the apartment complex, I shrug my backpack further up my shoulder as I search for my keys in my pockets. Upon finding it, I give a moment of cheering to myself momentarily because it took quite a while to find them. I climb the stairs juggling the keys in my hands, scowling at the over-exaggerated luxurious look this apartment complex had.

Black, glossy marble steps and exquisite Victorian style railings painted gold. Pale white morning glory vines hugged the railings here and there, brushing my fingers every so often. From the stairs, I could see the small, rectangular garden that I often seen tended to daily by the gardeners hired by the manager of this estate. The garden varies from different types of flowers, I remembered Yuzu naming some of them like camellias, anemones, magnolias, and others I can't seem to remember. The flowers usually varied from the colors white, golden or yellow, and black. Guess to match with the rest of the area or something.

After climbing the short flight of stairs, I finally made it to my family's apartment door. I found out that getting my keys ready was in the end, useless. Yuzu was already over the door's threshold, her face bright and elated like a gave her a unicorn. But she's always like this. That's what I loved about my little sister, she was always so happy, but she never overdone it to the point where it either creeps me out or annoys me. Or maybe I'm just being biased because she's my sister.

"I made some Miso soup, tempura ayu, tonkatsu tonight!" She beamed.

I smiled. "Sounds awesome. Does this mean food's ready to eat now and you guys were just waiting for me?"

"Just hurry up inside before I start without you both!" Karin drawled impatiently from inside the house.

I laughed, Yuzu scowling at her twin's rudeness. "Oni-chan, don't be like that. Ichi-nii probably had a rough day."

I followed Yuzu in, closing the front door behind me. Karin had already seated herself at the table, chopsticks in hand and food on her plate. Karin clicks her tongue. "Ichi-nii's fault. He's the one who got a job when it's entirely unnecessary."

I frowned, but she was right. Just then, my phone rang. Reluctantly, I glanced at it and sighed heavily. "Yes, ma'am?" I answered.

"Speak of the devil." Karin muttered before Yuzu hushing her.

"Kurosaki." Soifon replied, her voice serious and flat as usual. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"Well, not-"

"Good." I my best to hold back my sarcastic sigh. She continued. "I need someone to fill in for Shishigawara tomorrow."

"You mean Moe?" Shishigawara was Moe's last name, but it was a mouthful to remember, so I never really remembered him well by his last name.

"Tch. Whatever. Yeah, him. He's suddenly decided to use one of his vacation days tomorrow, of all the god-forsaken days in the world. Does he not know what tomorrow is? The day where we promote our restaurant with our 10th anniversary sale. And the cowardly bastard has the balls to ditch us on the most important day of our business." Oh god, I hope my sisters can't hear the words she's saying right now. "He's lucky he's got that pretension lawyer and the government business laws by his side, or I would have him working the dirtiest job at the lowest pay. Worthless son of a-"

"So tomorrow right?" I cut her off before the volume of her voice rose any higher.

There's a pause, and when she talks, she seems calmer. "Yeah. Be sure to get here earlier. 'Kay?"

"Yes ma'am." And I hung up.

I have no qualms about working tomorrow, even though it's the start of the weekend. Usually, my weekends are free. I spend my time working extra hours at the Suzuembachi( Soifon's restaurant), working out, chores, and spending time with my friends. It's a must that I stay active. Because if I don't, I'll get restless, and start thinking. And usually deep thinking leads to certain negative thoughts and I don't need that. I need distractions.

"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu chimes. "How about we invite Mr. Zangetsu?"

I looked out the sliding door window that lead to the balcony and spotted a brief stream of smoke flowing through the air outside. Tensa Zangetsu. Guessing from the offer, I guessed that Yuzu had also spotted the smoke, the tall-tale signs of Old-Man Zangetsu's presence. He was an not really an old man, in his early thirties perhaps but I still call him "Old-Man Zangetsu" for his elderly looks, and he happened to be our next door neighbor. Yuzu would often offer the idea of inviting the old man to eat with us, I end up doing so and inviting the old man, he accepts and moments later he's sitting down eating with us like it was a regular thing.

It actually kind of was a regular thing. The only time he's never over to eat dinner(or lunch) with us was on Sundays or Wednesdays. God knows why. We never probe into his business, because usually he's the one initiating the talking when it comes to speaking about himself. And he seemed like a 'to-himself' kind of man, so we never bothered asking personal stuff. Maybe, one day, when we have nothing else to talk about, one of us would ask Zangetsu something about himself. All we know is that he has a young son, about two years older than me, who also lives in Japan as a fetish model...Yeah. Apparently he's albino too with a weird quirk to his eyes that causes his sclera to develop a black tint. Yeah...as if fetish model wasn't weird enough already.

I enter the balcony, the scent of smoke immediately filled my nostrils, and I walked up to the plaster white railing and leaned against it. Another puff of smoke wisps by me as I stare out over the golden flickering lights of LA.

"Yuzu made a bit too much food today again," I said. "And it'd be convenient to invite you over so you can help us finish it up. No one likes left-overs."

Old-Man Zangetsu give me a dry laugh before exhaling the smoke from his nostrils. I tried not to cringe. "You're horrible at inviting others, as usual."

I shrugged. "I could always be worst."

"Of course." He then puts out the cigarette. "Tell Yuzu I'll be there in a sec."

"Yeah, we all know you will." And I left the balcony before closing the door behind me.

Now that I think about it, Old-Man Zangetsu was better at being a father than my own. Socially I mean. When it came to money, yeah sure, you can count my father in. But anything else, I wouldn't exactly say so. Sure enough, Old-Man Zangetsu was at our door to join us for our nightly feast. We chatted about the typical things of our day. Things like school, work, sports, et cetera. Soon after finishing, the old man left after helping us clean up and saying his usual goodbyes, and returned to his home. We were left to the rest of the night doing whatever we wanted. And tomorrow, the cycle repeats itself. It all felt never-ending. But I knew it wouldn't last forever. I knew that after high school, father would forcefully send me to some palatial college for top-notch students, colleges such like Harvard or Yale. After that, I'd have too work in the management business, just like my father.

No, maybe I won't have to. I could break free of his influential grasp and lead my own life. Become what ever I wanted. Do what ever made me happy, far away from the stubborn ass. But what is out there that is left for me? Fighting sports has been taken away from me. And that is the only thing I know that I can do. Besides wait tables and work the register at work. I might end up having to actually follow my father's guidelines. I might actually have to follow after his footsteps...But will I become like him? Will I become the oblivious workaholic who ignores his loved ones around him as his dives into the infinite pool of paperwork and business?

No. I don't want that.

* * *

***Oh the irony.**

**Ugh. I know. It's boring so far. And yeah. I have this other story that I must work on, but that one isn't due for a while ;D Anyways, next chapter, things will get a bit interesting. I won't update this story a lot because this story requires me to work a bit longer on it, so I might update this story every two weeks or so. Depends on my schedule. And just to let you know, Grimmjow will be a little...cold and insensitive in this fanfic =^.^= Next chapter, if the plot is still unclear, I'll explain it a bit more in the author's notes~**

**Review Please! :3**


	2. 2: Brontide

**Clairvoyance-Chapter Two**

_**n.**_

**Brontide:** A low muffled rumbling of thunder from a distance

* * *

(Saturday. July)

It felt like the meaning of life was all about money, that it was our purpose in living. Live, work, sleep, wake, eat. Rinse and repeat until the day you die. I know that many may disagree and say that it's not, that the meaning of life is to be a good human being, to help yourself through helping others, or some other saint-like philosophy. Others may even preach that life is all about leading a peaceful life of satisfaction and tranquility. But money is the base of both of those paths. You need money to help and support others as well as yourself and you need money to satisfy yourself. The only life I could ever think of that does not require money is to venture into the woods and live off of the nutrition that the wilderness may supply.

I know that there are many who enjoy their lifestyle as working-class because they have a job that makes them happy and a life where they can wake up in the morning with a smile on their face. It's them who don't mind the repeating schedule of their lifestyle, and it's us who live everyday in agony dead off our feet. But we work in hopes for a better future, in hopes that things would somehow get better, that we'll be able to see change in the distance sometime later. But I, individually, work not because of the money. I work to forget. To distract myself.

"Ichigo! Take the register while I waiter some tables!" Renji hollered.

I nodded and took his place as he swept passed me. Renji tightened his vivid, red hair into a ponytail with another hairband after his current one seemed to be on the verge of snapping or coming loose. Renji was pink in the face, the shade seemed to grow more intense against the dark black and bold tribal tattoos inked across his skin and was almost bordering red from running around like crazy under Soifon's demands. Being the co-manager was difficult, especially when he was just a teenager and working under a lot of expectations. That, and today was a full-house. The whole restaurant was bustling, tables were filled, people were shoving and pushing behind the boundary of the black velvet ropes as they waited impatiently for someone to escort them to their seats. Each of the staff were buzzing around, whether they were in the kitchen or running around and assisting customers, while I was here tinkering with the cash register as I stored the customer's money in the machine and gestured them over to the line where they would next wait.

It was chaos, yes, but to the customers, it was all worth it. Or that's what they would say. No doubt, the food at Suzuembachi was perfection, thanks to the dedicated chefs who poured their hearts out for each dish. The food critics can't deny it either. Suzuembachi was the best Chinese-Japanese five-star restaurant in all of the Los Angeles Food District. Its been said by the Los Angeles Times newspapers numerous times in the food section. I also would agree with all those who praised Soifon's treasured restaurant. The food served here wasn't one of those stingy, tiny little dishes with small amounts of food with some ridiculously fancy name to it (as well as a ridiculously high price attached). It was always proportional, filling, and never left anyone disappointed. And along with the food, the interior design of the restaurant was also top-notch. Plus, with Soifon being an utter neat-freak, the restaurant was always spic-and-span and organized.

"Ichigo." Soifon snapped over the walkie-talkie that hung from my waist. "Don't you dare dilly-dally on me boy."

She was also a paranoid woman who had round the clock surveillance over the restaurant and kept tabs on us by these walkie-talkie and those cameras that were carefully hidden in the sturdy lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

I paused from my work to grab the device from the belt clip and replied to her. "Yes ma'am."

"Don't even reply to me. Focus on the register." She snapped again, her patience flying out the window.

I only returned the walk-talky to my belt before reverting to my task. From how busy we were, I could guess that Soifon also had her hands full with assisting the dishes and keeping an eye out on her cameras. If that was even humanely possible at this situation. Usually at occasions such as today's, which was the Suzuembachi's 10th anniversary, the business rush would last until 9, nearing our closing hour. Which it does. From 1 of the afternoon down to 9:30, the customer's numbers have thinned and the restaurant calmed. There was about thirty more minutes to go before closing hour and my shift to be over, finally. There were still many people here though, chatting and eating their night away in the slight calmness of the night. I was relieved of my duties at the cash register and replaced by Renji, who handed me his task as waiter. Which was good because the register didn't require much work at that moment and I was becoming extremely bored.

"Ichigo, there's a need of your assistance at section 4, table 4." Soifon voiced over the walkie-talkie.

"Yes ma'am." I said as I hurried over to the table.

Upon arriving, I went over the basic procedures to greeting a customer. "Hello, I'm Ichigo. May I-"

"I'd like minute of your time to speak to you." The man said in a rather quick manner.

For a brief moment, I'm shocked after being asked something like that so abruptly, but then I composed my self, a dark scowl replacing the shock, and I snatched the walkie-talkie from my belt.

"Ma'am-"

"It's alright." Soifon sighs, as if she's given up on something. "I know the bastard. Just hear him out."

"Wha-"

"Ichigo. Just do it." She snapped before static replaced her.

I clicked my tongue and glared at the man who sat idly on the table before me. He was swirling around a noodle in blue porcelain bowl with a chopstick, his eyes focused on it instead of me, and I gave in the chance to examine the man. He was pale, stubble sprouted from his jaws and he was also scraggly, with blond shaggy hair under a knitted striped green and white beanie that had black outline diamonds on the bottom. The man was sporting a outfit that had seemed like it has gone through years of wear and tear, a thin dark-green coat over a tie-dyed brown, green, and white shirt along with overly worn stonewashed pants and sandals of what I could guess to be made of hemp. After clearing my throat, the man's head snapped up, flashing me with cheery gray eyes.

"Yo?" He cocked his head to the side.

"Don't freakin' yo me." I growled. "You're the one who called me to your table. What do you want?"

"Oh yes, yes." The stranger almost sang. "Sit, please. I requested that I want to talk to you."

"Yeah, I know." I rolled my eyes.

"First off. My name is Urahara Kisuke." He reaches his hand over for me to shake, and out of reflex, I took it.

I struggled not to rudely snatch my hand away from his and took my seat cautiously. "Let's get this over with. What do you want to talk to me about?"

"I'm so glad that you asked." He chimed. "I wanted to ask you on your opinions on crime."

"Crime?"

"Yes, the simple kind. You know. Burglary, rape, murder."

"It's revolting." I said with disgust, more for the fact that he would ever ask such a thing.

"Yes, very much revolting." I somehow found it very odd that such a man with a odd style and questionable hygiene could have such good grammar. "Now, may I ask you a question?"

"You're already asking me one, why would you ask me for you to ask another?" I scoffed.

Urahara chuckled. "Yes yes..." He hums. "So, what if I were to ask you if you would like to assist in some...crime-fighting?"

I frowned. "Pardon?"

"Hm, maybe that's not the right word." He mumbles to himself. " You know, criminal justice."

"What are you talking about?" I narrowed my eyes. Is this guy crazy?

"If you ever had the chance to serve justice where it rightfully belongs, would you do it?"

There's a burning in my stomach and my heart begins to throb in a way that I know I'm getting mad. Not at him in particular. At the memories. At others. I dig my nails into my palms to anchor myself down onto reality. I'll just give this bastard the answers he's looking for, finish this damn conversation, and cut off my shift so I can leave. Simple. It was almost closing time anyways. I don't fucking need this crap right now.

"Yes." I answered honestly.

"If I were to tell you that I could make it possible for you, would you accept my request?"

My brows furrowed together in annoyance as I scowled deeply at the man. The suspicions I had of this guy were rising. Acquaintance of Soifon or not, I'm starting to not trust this man. "No."

"No?" Urahara seems taken aback. "Why not? I thought you would like to."

"My answer is no. Period." I growled as I scooted the chair back as I stood so I could take my leave.

"But wouldn't you like to serve the same kind of justice that should have been served four years ago?"

I halted. "What did you say?"

Urahara sighs. "Four years ago wasn't it? When it happened?" He ignores my glares and focuses his cloudy gray eyes back onto the soup that should have been cold by now. "Masaki Kurosaki. A female Japanese immigrant who received her legal citizenship after marrying her husband, Isshin Kurosaki. At the age of 32 years, she was brutally murdered by the hands of the infamous serial killer Grand Fisher, who had killed forty more before her." _Stop talking._ "Unfortunately, his punishment was light, and he was confined in a mental hospital for twenty years due to the sad excuse that he suffered from a mental disability."

"_Shut up._" My voice shook.

"Justice was never really brought upon your family, was it?" Urahara looks up at me with eyes of pity.

I violently shoved the chair back under the table, knowing that the surrounding customers were startled by my action.

"Ichigo. Don't make a scene." Soifon warns through the walky-talky.

"I know." I grumbled even though she couldn't hear me.

"Don't you want to make up for the justice that was lost?" He says, his voice a bit dreary. "At least hear me out."

"I don't know you." I stressed out. "And you don't know me. I honestly don't know who the fuck says that kind of shit to someone so bluntly like that upon a first impression, and it was unnecessary for you to bring that subject up. So just fuck off."

"Ichigo!" Soifon hissed.

I snatched the device from my belt as I turned my back on Urahara and pushed harshly on the reply button. "I'm leaving now."

"Ichigo, if you leave your shift early, I'm cutting your pay!" She threatened quickly.

"Do what you like. I'm still leaving." I told her. "See you Monday."

But it wasn't that easy to tell the boss off. As I gathered my things from my work locker, Soifon burst in the resting room, throwing every speck of threats and nasty insults she could think at me. But I know her threats are empty considering I was one of her best workers. She couldn't risk that. And she knows I could get another job quick if she were to fire me. She even mentioned to me once that she has the upper hand with having me as her employee since I'm the son of Isshin Kurosaki, the manager of the Cerise Et Vin restaurant branch, and uses me as an informer for my father's activities against her rivaling restaurants.

Soon enough, I was gone from the restaurant and already making my way back home. I was waiting at the bus stop for the next bus to stop by. Hopefully, I didn't miss it because I really didn't feel like taking the train.

"Thank goodness I found you." A raspy voice called out.

There he was, six feet away from me, Urahara stood with his back arched and hands on his knees to support himself. He was coughing like his throat consisted of sandpaper and gravel and I wrinkled my nose in disgust when he spits out a wad of phlegm.

"Sorry." He says after noticing the expression on my face.

"I'll call the cops if you get any closer to me." Right after I unhinge his jaw.

Urahara raises his hands up defensively and gives me a nervous smile. "Jeezus kid, chill. I just want you to at least hear out what I had to say earlier."

"I don't want to hear it." I snapped as I dropped my backpack from my shoulders and onto the bench.

"I'm no threat to you."

"You're harassing me." I started to crack my knuckles.

"It's not my intentions. Seriously, all I want is for you to listen for what I have to say." He scratches his chin. "Look, I won't mention...that subject. I noticed that it made you angry and I really didn't mean to."

I gave him a weary look and sighed. "Fine. But you have to stay at least five feet away from me. If you don't, I'll fucking kick your balls up your ass."

"Intense." He sings. "Very well. My request for you is simple."

"Spill it."

"I'm a private detective." He pauses to bring something out of his pocket and throws a black square at me. I automatically catch it after seeing that it was a wallet and opened it, revealing an authentic identification card of a private detective. Fancy seals stamps and the guy's picture, everything a legal detective should have. He continues. "Currently, I'm working on a case with a few of my colleagues. Its a tough one involving a rapist. Or shall I say, previously suspected rapist. I'm sure you know of him."

"Do I?" I replied skeptically.

He nods. "Yes. Sousuke Aizen."

"Sousuke?" I started rummaging through my brain, trying to remember the face that goes to that name. In no time, I remembered. He was one of the fundraisers and benefactors who promoted a couple of the restaurants my father manages. He was also a regular to a few of the restaurant too.

"Yes." Urahara says. "Owner of Hueco Mundo Corporation, a machinery business that branches out in different types of works. From average factory machinery to the production of weapons. Top of the line millionaire and resident of the Los Angeles County. Being someone with so much money to spare, he could buy his own set of laws and justice. Multiple times he bought his way out of prison and slithered past the accusations called upon him by the court."

"I remembered that." I blinked, the memory of seeing Sousuke's case popping up on the news every so often. "There were six accusations of rape against him, four young women and two young men, but in the end, he was sought not guilty by all the court. The defense insisted that the Supreme Court should at least look at the case after that, but their request was ignored because Sousuke was proven innocent after so many trials."

"Supposedly proven innocent." Urahara corrected. "They were all bribed. The judge, jury, everyone except the victims who out-right refused his offer to let the case drop. After he won, the victims gone into a state of depression, one of them even committed suicide."

My heart dropped at the news. Before, I used to not care about the Sousuke rape trials. It seemed like it was all fake to me, just another way for someone to get attention or money. There were times that I did suspect that Sousuke was guilty of his crimes, but after seeing that the court saw Sousuke as innocent, that thought was wiped out and I viewed those victims as people only seeking to sue him for his money through false crimes. I never thought that Sousuke had paid all of those people, I never thought that what he was accused of was actually true, and I never thought of anyone concerning the trials. And it horrified and sickened me to know that I thought that way before. I felt immense guilt for my narrow-mindedness and a growing hate towards the aristocrat, Sousuke Aizen. He raped those girls and boys, paid the people of that court with filthy money, and is now left free to roam around and continue preying on the innocent. Just because the bastard has money. What has this country come to let money corrupt their minds and chose money over the society's safety?

"So now that I know what this is all about, what do you need to tell me this for?" I asked.

Urahara's eyes shined with hope, knowing that what he said had opened my mind a bit more to him. Somehow, I felt as if I was going to regret that.

"I am in need of your help." He answers. "I would like you to play a vital role in my case. Although, all my other partners' roles are just as vital as yours would be, you would still be important to the plan as well."

"Okay, what is this so-called plan?" I wondered.

"It's a simple plan, really. All you have to do is lure Sousuke to you, flirt with him, and get him to reveal that dark side of his. We'll have surveillance on our side so that when he does expose himself, it'll all be caught, not a single fleck of his actions with you will go unnoticed."

"Sounds like a pretty solid plan. But what if he tries to kidnap me?"

" I have men who can take care of that, one who will set up a tracking device on you-"

"Tracking device?" I interrupted, slightly disturbed.

"Yes. It's one of those microchips, you know the ones that they use on dogs, except it'll be worn as an earring. But don't worry, we won't disrupt your privacy, and it's only temporary, until the mission is complete. Afterwards, we'll remove the device."

It seemed pretty convenient, considering my ears were already pierced and that I won't have to worry about going missing.

"Anyways, the other man will make sure to keep you from getting snatched. If you were to ever get kidnapped, he'll just step up and retrieve you again. Although there's a slim chance of that ever happening considering you seem like a man who can fight his own battles."

I scoffed. "Of course." But there was also a chance of getting knocked out and drag somewhere. "You promise that you'll respect my personal space and privacy though?"

Urahara nodded his head enthusiastically. "Of course! Of course!"

"Well, this seems like a pretty good plan. I'll go along with it then."

"Really?" Urahara beamed.

I nodded. "Yeah, but how is this going to work? Will I have to temporarily quit my job, and what's the income?"

"Income?" Urahara deadpanned.

"Yeah." I furrowed my brows. "You know, how much will you pay me?"

Urahara fixes his beanie around before clearing his throat nervously. "Well...here's the thing. Um, you won't get paid." The last sentence left out of his mouth in a way that it sounded like a question, that he was really unsure if he should mention that or not.

I frowned. "So let me get this straight. You want me, to be bait, pretend and lure a suspected rapist to come out of his shell and expose who he really is?All for free?"

"Hopefully, yes." Urahara smiles at me carefully.

I give this approximately two minutes to think this over. Considering my situation, my lifestyle, and the importance of this case, I come to a final conclusion. "...Can I beat the shit out of him afterward?"

Urahara's staring at me after I said that. I wonder how was it so shocking. But then after staring at me in bewilderment, he starts to break out in this jolly, yet a sing-song type of laughter.

"My my..."Urahara says after he composed himself. "That was quiet unexpected."

"Was that really?" I questioned because I was the one surprised by his sudden outburst of laughter.

"Yes." He smiles. "Well, I would say that what you've requested might be bit of a challenge, since a few have also bid on the physical punishment of Sousuke Aizen."

I shrugged. "The more the merrier then."

"You have yourself I deal." Urahara held his hand out for me to shake and I take it for the second time tonight. "Thank you, Ichigo Kurosaki."

* * *

**Later on, you'll discover that the theory that our world revolves entirely on money will be overly-exaggerated in this story. And that Ichigo can be bit of a hypocrite.**

**Review please! ;A;**


	3. 3: Psithurism

**Clairvoyance-Chapter Three**

**n.**

**Psithurism :**(_plural not attested_/ _obsolete_) The sound of rustling leaves.

* * *

(Sunday. July )

My whole world shook and took alarming turns as I stared deep into a void of neverending darkness. I was blind, completely, and I only had the sense of touch and balance to know what was going on around me. Or should I say, not completely know what is going on around me. I didn't even know what was happening to me myself. Was I standing or laying down? Was I even in a resting position? I could be walking...Or the more important question is, where am I and what am I doing here? I don't remember.

Just then, something flashes by my vision. A white blur amongst the deep black. I squinted my eyes, trying to focus on the distant blur. And just as I did so, it seemed as if the object had grown closer without my knowledge. A couple yards away from me, a white animal prowled across a path before me. I stared at it, and it never even registered my existence. As it continued its journey, I noted that it wasn't just an animal, a white tiger. And it wasn't just an ordinary one, but what makes it different isn't something so extraordinary, just odd. Instead of broad stripes lining its body, letters were printed across it's alabaster fur. Thin, scrawny and crooked letters, reading **"Zero"**.

"What?" I said, my voice echoing and my breathe forming into wispy clouds of letters, shaping the word that I had just said not too long ago.

This confuses me even more, and now I'm wondering if I had fallen asleep watching _Alice in Wonderland_ again. Just as the tiger passes and disappears, a dog comes rolling into the scene, literally tumbling and rolling over until it stops right in front of me. As it had stopped, it gracefully swirls onto its paws and gazes at me with it's black beady eyes. I stare back, knowing nothing else to do, and hoping that it will get bored of me soon. But it doesn't. Instead, it goes nearer and I was frozen in place. I broke eye contact with the dog and found my eyes trailing upwards, discovering a circular patch of skin upon it's forehead. And in that patch of skin laid a deep dent, a tone different from the surrounding set of skin. Maybe I'm wrong, but this seems to be what the dog was asking for, as it had stepped back a few paces and settled onto it's hind legs. The dog barks repeatedly and a mist similar to mine curls around it and starts to shape into words.

"**Observe and detect."** It read and the dog barks again, new words forming. **"Never can you lie, the all seeing eye."**

And the dog dematerializes right before me. Before I could even think about what the hell just happened, the air surrounding me suddenly feels stuffy. No, not stuffy, it's tight. Like it was compressing me, coiling around my body and squeezing the air out of my lungs. I start to flail around, kicking and squirming, but I fail to escape the unknown creature that is holding me hostage within it's constructing grip. I felt like my life was slipping, but strangely enough, the grip is let loose. The creature comes into view, a snake. Who would've thought. It's a beast though. Well, beast isn't exactly the right choice of words. To but it more specifically, it's a monster. Over two stories tall, pale white body with bold black and brown stripes. The snake's head drifted closer to me, it's slim body coiling loose around me.

"_Beware." _It hissed._ "The foes. Beware."_

It was then that I noticed that the stripes upon the snake were just like the stripes on the tiger, they were words. And on this snake, the words read **"The enemy is not what it seems. Old friends, new. Which one is true?"**

The snake began to coil tighter around me, choking me within it's tight grip yet again. The void began to shake and quiver again and I know that I'm freaking out like a little pansy by the scream that's drawing out of my mouth now. But honestly, who the fuck wouldn't. And as if things couldn't get any more bizarre, white wings sprouted from the snake's spine. _Butterfly wings_.

"_The foes. Beware." _It continues to hiss.

Stripes began to line across the wings of the snake, and them too actually turned out to be words upon closer notice. **"Know your enemy."**

And everything just suddenly explodes. Next thing I know, I'm flying off my bed, tightly wounded up in my bed sheets. The sheet hardly gave me any cushioning from the fall and I wouldn't be surprised if I received bruises from that.

"Fucking nightmare." I hissed as I unwrapped myself from the binding sheets.

I don't remember ever watching _Alice in Wonderland_ this week, but at that moment, I decided never to watch it again. In all of my life, I never had a dream as abnormal as that. After recovering from the shock and adrenaline rush I had due to the nightmare, I left my room and made my way to the kitchen. My hands felt shaky as I raised my hand to open the refrigerator.

"Ahh-" A high pitch gasp came from behind me. "I-Ichi-nii!"

My eyebrows shot up at the sight of my younger sister behind me, eyes wide and slim hands clutching a cup of water that had threatened to spill.

"Yuzu? What are you doing up so late?" I asked.

"Umm, I was getting so water for Karin, but she didn't want any so..." She trailed off.

"Karin? Is she awake too?"

"Yeah, I am!" Karin yelled out from where I guessed to be from the living room. "And it's only 4 a.m. If anything, we're awake early, not late."

I sighed and walked over to where my other sister was. When I entered the living room, Karin was seated upon the couch in front of the television, her narrow arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she watched a re-run of the news from last night. I sat down next to her while Yuzu settled to sit down beside the other side of Karin.

"Okay, so what's got the both of you up so early?" I asked.

"Karin had a nightmare." Yuzu answers.

"I didn't say you could tell him yourself." Karin snaps at her. "I could do just fine telling him myself you know!"

Yuzu pouts, but she doesn't reply nor does she bother with a comeback.

"So what was that nightmare about?" I asked carefully.

Karin didn't answer. Instead, she pursed her lips shut and intensified her glared towards the television. I thought that she just needed time to get her thoughts together so she could tell me what happened, but after a few more minutes, I thought maybe that wasn't the case.

"She didn't want to tell me either." Yuzu assured.

"I really don't want to talk about it." Karin said and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Keeping it from us isn't going to help anyone Karin, it'll just worry us more and become a burden for you." I told her.

"It's just a dream okay, it's nothing serious!" She snapped as she buried her head within the nest of her arms.

"It's was a nightmare and if it has you acting like this, then it is serious."

Karin said nothing. Again, there was no reply for three minutes. Although, after those three minutes had passed, she raised her head up again and set her eyes upon the tv news. Upon the television screen, the news anchor was describing a recent case about the combination of a homicide and a kidnapping caught on tape somewhere around Pasadena. She went on how it was most likely connected to the string of murders of a some serial killer. Something about it, just seeing this made my chest flare out in anger as I felt the returning memories of my mother's case reappear before me.

"Ichi-nii." Karin called out. "Why do they do it?"

Ah, so she remembered it now too?

"Honestly, I don't know." I answered.

Yuzu stayed quite. Like Karin, she kept her eyes glued to the screen. I could see her eyes glistening with tears, yet those tears did not form. I could only see the gloom in her eyes as she held those tears in. Karin was the same, but her eyes were different. They held anger, disgust, and anguish. I was desperate to know what kind of nightmare tortured my little sister.

But I didn't want to prod too far when she didn't want to open herself up to me. But in doing so, I felt a bit hurt. I'm beginning to notice the distance between me and Karin lately. I try my best to understand her situation; the gender differences, age differences, and the fact that she may be experiencing puberty. But it's things like this nightmare that she had and her troubles with academics that worries me.

"I'm going to try and go back to sleep again." Karin the returns to her room, leaving me and Yuzu in the living room.

"I guess we're all still in pain, huh?" Yuzu comments.

It's dispiriting to hear the pained tone in her voice as she give me this heartbreaking smile. You know, one of those smiles where you know they're trying their hardest to smile for you just so you don't have to worry, but you can still see the sadness and pain that they're suffering from just underneath that mask of a smile. I don't want to see that on Yuzu. Not her.

"I know it's painful. But let's bear with it. Mom would want us to be happy right? Besides, if she were to know that we were in pain like this, she'll be sad."

Yuzu sniffed, her eyes still not swelled with tears. "Yup. I'll be strong so that I can take care of you guys even if she's gone."

I smiled, proud that she held her tears back so strongly. "You'd make Mom proud."

She nodded her head firmly and excused herself to go back to her room. I sighed. Although she held such a tough face like that, I knew Yuzu well enough to know she wouldn't have been able to hold out for so long. Karin and Yuzu were truly twins. Although they were universally different in many ways, they share particular characteristics that make them a bit similar. They were both strong and cared so much for us, their family, and what was left of it. And though their personalities show their similar characteristics off in different ways, they both mean well. And right now they both wanted to be strong for everyone.

I understand that.

It was possible that the nightmare that Karin had was about our mother. Karin refused to talk about her nightmare, knowing that it might bring back the hurtful memories of our mother. So instead of revealing her nightmare, she kept quite and held back on the instincts to tell about her monsters, just to prevent the reopening of our barely healing wounds.

And Yuzu, she was a natural crybaby, like I was when I was younger. It was evident in her eyes that she wanted to cry, so much, but she didn't. She stayed strong, and refused to show weakness through crying. She knew that we were all in pain like her, and she also thought that crying wouldn't help any of us. So instead, she swallowed her tears until she met her limit to the point where she excuses herself to her room where she now cries her heart out. But that's not what I wanted. None of this is what I wanted.

The last thing I wanted was for my little sisters to suffer like this alone, by themselves, to bear the lingering pain of our mother's loss unaccompanied by each other. I know their pain, yet there they suffer in their rooms that they locked themselves. I knew it was okay to cry, it was more than okay since they have been strong for so long, since they kept their feelings and thoughts bottled up from me and my father, probably from each other as well. That's what also makes Karin and Yuzu strong. But just because they were strong, didn't mean that they can suffer like that.

Though I believed this, I also believed that now wasn't the right time. I don't even know whether or not I might be able to determine when the time might come or if it is right, or if can deal with it. I felt like a coward and a complete dumbass not being able to come to their consolation. Yeah, it's because I'm a useless dumbass.

* * *

"Yuzu, I'm heading out." I announced at the doorway as I slipped my shoes on.

"Huh?" Yuzu popped out from her room. "Today is Sunday though..."

"Yeah no work on Sundays. I know, sorry, but I have some errands to do today. I might stop by the laundromat, so do we have any laundry to do?" I asked as I tied my shoelaces.

Yuzu shook her head. "Did them all yesterday when you were at work. Mister Zaraki fixed the residential laundry machines yesterday morning, so I was able to do all our loads."

I nodded. "'Kay, you don't have any other errands for me then?"

She shook her head. "Though, you might have to come early today because father is coming home today. He might arrive early."

I mentally scoffed at the thought of my father coming home early. Knowing a workaholic like him, it was doubtful. I said my temporary goodbyes to Yuzu and left the apartment. Karin had earlier assured me that she'll keep Yuzu company when I gave her an early goodbye and even gave the thought that she'll try and convert Yuzu to be capable of playing sports. It calmed me to at least know that they'll be able to give each other company.

_But now to deal with some of my other problems._

I started to fish for my wallet through my pockets until one of them turned up with it. From within my wallet, I pulled out a flashy business card and studied it for the tenth time it has been in my possessions. Urahara's card. It was sturdy, with emerald green diamond frames, and a glittering black cat resting over the contact information. Fancy, for a detective. I took out my phone, dialled down the numbers, and waited for the line to stop ringing and Urahara to pick up the phone.

I was a bit surprise when it was picked up after the first ring.

"Hello?" The voice was breathy, but sure enough, it was Urahara.

"It's Ichigo." I answered back.

"Oh!" He sang. "You called!"

"Well you told me to call you so that we can meet up!" I snapped impatiently.

"Yes, yes! Where are you right now so we can meet up?" Seriously, this guy was too excited for it to be normal.

Perhaps he was normally like this, but it disturbed me. "I'll just meet you at this sushi place that I know."

"Sure, name?"

"Unagiya, you know it?"

"Of course, I'm here right now!" Urahara chimed.

"Ah, good...I guess." I said. "I'll meet you in a few then, I'm taking the bus."

"Take care!" And I hung up.

This guy was seriously too spirited for my liking.

After the fifteen minute bus ride, I made it to the area where the sushi restaurant, Unagiya, was located. After walk a few blocks, I spotted the restaurants trademarked sign tower, as well as Urahara standing right in front of the building. He seemed to be wearing the same knitted beanie and hemp sandals as he had wore yesterday. Though he had gotten rid of the tie-dyed coat and shirt, and instead he now wore an extremely loose tank top that had a slightly comedic design of Siddhartha Gautama in a meditating pose with a lava lamp in his left hand, and sporting a peace sign with his right.

"Are you seriously a detective?" I asked loudly, catching his attention.

Urahara visibly jumped from his waiting spot but smiled joyfully once he noticed it was me. "Of course I am! Are you doubting me, Mr. Kurosaki?"

"How could I not when you're dressed like an urban hippie?"

He sighs. "Formal and professional clothes are too restraining. I prefer to work in clothes that doesn't limit my working capabilities."

I shrugged. "What ever. I'm here, so lets talk."

"Fine fine, let's go inside. Some tiger rolls and good ol' japanese sake would be nice right now."

"Isn't it bad to drink on the job?" I questioned as I opened the door for the both of us.

"Pshh, I'm a private detective, I can do what ever I want." He gave me a nonchalant wave of dismissal as he took a seat on one of the tall stools.

I took the stool next to him a tapped on the service bell. A familiar face skipped towards us, Kaoru Unagiya, the son of this restaurant's owner. Upon laying his eyes on me, his face went sour.

"Mum! The perverted regular is here!" He shouted, drawing the attention of other customers to us.

"Cut it out you little shit. I'm not a fuckin' perv." I snapped.

Kaoru jabbed an accusing finger at my face. "Liar! I know you've been checking out my mum! I know she's beautiful and everything, but she's too good for you! So you can forget about getting it on with my mum!"

Oh my god, I don't even swing that way. Of course, I can't say that. Being gay was still a new thing to me, I'm just barely getting used to being out of the closet. Or I should say barely over the threshold. I'm not exactly secretive about being gay, but to explain it more clearly, it's like an "Ask & Tell" kind of thing. Ask me about my sexual orientation, and I'll tell you honestly that I'm gay. I don't put it straight out there like other people, nor do I make it obvious and I try not to hide it. I'm over that hiding bullshit.

"First of all, I don't check out your mom. Second of all, I'm no where near attracted to her, the size of her breasts scares me."

Kaoru gasped, apparently appalled by whatever I had said. "So you do admit to checking out my mum!"

"What, wait I-"

"How else are you suppose to know how big my mum's knockers are?"

I smacked my hand against my forehead. This was going no where.

"Pardon me." Urahara raised his hand like he was back in elementary. "If it means anything, I think your mother has an awesome set of tits."

I gawked, my eyes wide and my jaw hanging low. What. The. Fuck? Was this guy stupid or ridiculously blunt. It's impossible to tell but I'm considering that he was big on both. Kaoru started sputtering out random words (or what should have been words) before she went scrambling for his mother. Well, this certainly won't end well.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I felt an early twinge of a headache coming on. "Damnit, she's going to kill us."

Urahara hummed. "Hmm? You think so?"

Just then, Ikumi Unagiya strolled out of the kitchen door, her hands busy with a cloth of fish blood. At least, that's what I hoped it to be.

"Ichigo." She glared at me, her hold on the bloody cloth switching from crumpling to strangling. "How dare you insult my dear son."

"It was him." I said immediately.

Though, Urahara didn't actually insult him. In reality it was me, since I did call him inappropriate names earlier. But Urahara did make an extremely improper comment about Ikumi. Urahara just gave her a casual salute and a half-hearty smile. With one look, Ikumi's glare relaxed and she gave out an irritated yet exhausted sigh. She dropped the cloth on the counter and leaned her arms against it.

"Haven't seen your ugly mug in a while." She said.

"My, how mean. Is this what you say to an old regular?" Urahara says in a light tone.

"To one who visited daily to loiter around and eat the food he made himself from home, and when he finally buys something, he leaves it on his tab to which after he suddenly disappears for two years and never paid that tab." Ikumi pauses to take a breather. "To that one old 'regular', yes, I will say shit like that to you."

"Someone can certainly hold a grudge." Urahara laughs.

"Whatever, you still owe me." She said.

"Of course!" Urahara brings out his wallet and hands Ikumi a bundle of money, and from what I could see, they were all twenties. Jeeze, what did he buy to have to owe her that much? "There's some extra there, so can I get two of every sushi you got here? Oh, and add some sake too!"

Ikumi sighs. "Just when I thought you got all generous. Fine."

"Hey, by the way, since when does your son work? I thought he was your baby, and he doesn't need to do such a bothersome thing?" Urahara mocked.

"He doesn't." Ikumi gave Urahara cold look. "He chooses to help me though out of his own will." She then sighs lovingly. "My baby's so thoughtful and kind. Helping his dear mother out, all without pay. I don't even have to ask him."  
_  
I think he just does it to mess with the customers._ Ikumi then left to prepare our orders. Urahara let out a light chuckle and shook his head.

"Still as stingy as she ever was." Urahara swivelled around in his seat to properly face me. "So, about our little agreement. Is there anything that you would like to discuss or if there's anything that concerns you?"

"Yeah, will I have to quit my job?" I asked.

"Well, no, not necessarily. We may take a lot of time off of your schedule though."

"How much of it?" I asked.

"It varies, depending on our plans, the procedures, and the progress we will all make. But we plan to teach and practice the procedures at least five times a week. The actual operations will depend on our progress."

"What do you mean by procedures?" I questioned.

"Simple things like teaching you what and what not to say to him using psychological techniques such as reverse psychology. We'll also teach you how to communicate with us during your conversations with Aizen. We'll be using some kind of fancy spy gear that goes in your ear. Honestly, I'm not very good at this gadget bullshit, so the guy that I put in charge of that will explain it to you more clearly later on. Other than those things, the other procedures we plan to do is pretty you up so you look appealing to Aizen."

"Pardon?" I furrowed my eyebrows at his unflattering comment.

Urahara tapped his mouth after noticing what he had said was offensive. "Oops, I didn't mean to sound so offensive. It's just that Aizen goes for the more...maidenly types."

"You are not going to put me in a dress." I stressed out.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare!" Urahara almost gagged laughing though. It was obvious that he must've liked the thought. "I meant fair to a limited degree. No one is going to make you dress drag, don't worry."

"Better not." I growled.

"Yes. But I will be honest and warn you that this case will get in the way of your work."

I shrugged. "It's okay, I'll quit then."

"Nonononono!" Urahara started to wave his hands in front of my face in disapproval. "You don't have to quit! That's not necessary!"

I placed one of my hands on his shoulder in reassurance. "Relax, I don't need to work. I don't work for the money, I work to keep myself busy."

"But, how will you support yourself?" Urahara asked.

"My father is the manager for the Cerise et Vin restaurant branch, money's not a problem." I arched a brow and gave him a questioning look. "I thought you were a detective, weren't you suppose to know everything about me or something?"

Urahara shook his head. "I knew who your father is and what he does, I just didn't know that he still supports you. Though I know that, it's not like I know every single detail of your family's situation, neither yours. Because of that I had to guess. And considering the latest incidents within you family that guess was my closest and most logical."

"What, that my father had given up on supporting his own family, forcing me to support us ourselves?"

"Close, but no. My theory was that your father, a raging workaholic, had submerged himself in his own addiction and forgotten his priorities. Thus, leaving you to clean up after his mess and try to keep your family together and at the same time support what's left over."

I swallowed thickly and shifted in my seat. "Interesting theory."

"Well, now it's nothing but a failed hypothesis." He sighs and removes his knitted beanie.

My eyes widened, glued to the top of Urahara's face. Suddenly, the haunting images of the nightmare I had suffered earlier daunted me. That odd dog with the patch of missing fur and exposed skin in the center of it's forehead, and in that patch a circular dent. And was it a coincidence that Urahara had a similar feature? Minus the fur. Yes, at the center of Urahara's forehead was a circular dip in his skull. The area was discoloured, probably two shades darker than his original skin tone. Urahara's hand slid over the odd feature and obscured the view. I blinked repeatedly and noticed that I had been staring rudely at the detective.

"S-Sorry." I apologized.

Urahara chuckled. "Na, it's alright. It's understandable since you really don't see these things often." He started to trace the outline of the dip, the action had made me cringe mentally. "Odd thing, isn't it?"

"What is it exactly?" I asked, curious and disturbed.

"A hole." He answered simply.

"A hole?" I repeated.

He nodded. "I have what is called a trepanned skull. I've gone through a operation where a hole is drilled into my skull."

"Why?"

"For my job." He said. "Being a detective sometimes requires one to think outside of the box, to think in different ways and unique possibilities. Be observant, wary, and open. This you see," he points to the hole in his skull "allows me to do and be all of those."

"And how does that hole in your head help with that?"

"It's complicated to explain but I think I might be able to explain it. It all has to do with the amount of blood that flows through your brain. When humans are in their childhood stage, the brain has dynamic brain activity. Because of this, children are more sensitive to things, larger imagination, and have a higher level of consciousness. This brain activity is due to the higher blood flow to their brain because of the fontanel, the soft spot at the top of their skulls. During childhood, the fontanel is slightly open, giving space within the skull for blood to flow around the brain. But as the child grows older, the soft tissue in the area of the fontanel begins to harden into bone, and when the child reaches adulthood, the gap of the fontanel is completely closed off. Pulastion decreases. Blood flow is limited. The child that is now an adult becomes lethargic and restricted."

"But trepanning your skull reverses that?"

Urahara whistled. "Bingo. Creating a hole in the skull would reverse the original wayward development and return one to the original state of a child's plane of acute consciousness. Because of it, I can solve cases with sharp logical, deductive, and abductive reasoning, absorb the smallest of observations and create various conclusions and possibilities linking to the work. Think of it like Sherlock Holmes."

"Well, if you're going to compare yourself to him, you gotta be one hell of a detective." I said.

"If you put it like that then I guess I'm not worthy to compare myself to Holmes." Urahara joked half-heartedly.

Hm, did I touch a tabooed subject?

Ikumi arrived with a two long rectangular plates, each catered with two rows of various types of sushi. She placed the plates before us, reached below the counter and brought up a tall glassed-bottle of sake and a tiny porcelain cup. After placing the two in front of Urahara, she looked up and made a sharp intake of her breath when she caught sight of the indentation on Urahara's forehead. Urahara laughed and pointed at the skin-covered hole with his thumb.

"Likey?" He asked.

Ikumi made a quick recovery and huffed. "Every time I see you, you have some new weird shit going on with you. What next? You gonna split your tongue? Tattoo your eyeball?"

She then left grumbling on how ridiculous Urahara was. The said detective just laughed. I'm beginning to think that this was reaction to everything. Laugh, laugh, laugh. As Urahara went ahead and began to eat his portion of the sushi, I began to wonder what Urahara must really be like. There was this saying that my mother would always say; "A man with a smile on his lips but not in his eyes is a sad man. And a man who laughs too much is hiding something." This guy was hiding something. But I knew it wasn't threatening. He's exterior was odd, and unpredictable, but he seemed to be a man with a heart of gold. Soifon knows him enough to trust him, and allow him to talk to me during my working hours. And Ikumi acted like she was very familiar with him (he was also one of her old regulars).

So yeah, so far, I trust this man. But I know I must remain weary, I still don't truly know this man to give him all of my trust.

"Mahhh, what are you doing?" Did he just try to bleat like he was a fucking goat? "Eat boy! Eat!"

"Fine." I grumbled and picked up a spider roll with my fingers.

"What the hell?" Urahara barked childishly. "What with that filthy table manners? Use the chopsticks, that what they're there for!" He then starts to lightly smack my arm.

"Fine!" I snapped and picked up the chopsticks just like he wanted.

Urahara beamed and sipped at his small cup of sake. I noticed the the sake bottle was a half-way full, he had already drank a lot of it then. _Goddamn_. After sipping down the last drop of his previous cup, he poured another fast.

"Woah, easy there man." I said as I cautiously took the bottle of sake from him.

I gave the sake back to Ikumi, who rolled her eyes when she saw the bottle a half full and Urahara flushed in the cheeks. Urahara just shrugged and plopped a toro nigiri in his mouth.

With a full mouth he said, "Eat up! After this I'll introduce you to the gang!"

"Gang?"

"Yes yes. The investigation crew~" Urahara sang and began to hum the _Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! _theme song.

Oh gawd, the dude's either extremely light-weight or that was some strongly brewed sake. _He's drunk._

* * *

"You sure this is the place?" I asked, exhausted.

"Of course I'm sure! I know where my little doves live!" Urahara starts to sway around playfully as he leaned more of his weight over my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes and shifted his weight so that I wouldn't bare all of his weight. For the twenty-sixth time today (yes, I'm counting) Urahara begins to sing a song in this horribly off tone voice. It was the theme song of _The Flinstones_. Previously, it was the opening theme song of_ Malcolm in the Middle_. Hastily, I dragged Urahara faster towards the door of the address that he had given me. The bus ride with him here was hell since his singing had brought on a considerable amount of attention towards us. I just wanted to ring the doorbell and ditch him there. But I couldn't do that.

I ringed the doorbell impatiently. But I was not pleased with the lack of a reply within the six seconds after ringing the bell so I rang it again followed by furiously knocking the screened door.

"Hold on please!" A woman cried out from the other side of the door.

Just when Urahara had finished singing "The Flinstones" theme song, the first door swung open. The women left the screen door closed to observe us.

"Urahara?" She asked.

"Nelly!" He squealed.

"Drunk?" She asked me. I think.

"Half of a tall bottle of sake."

"From Ikumi's?"

"How did you know?" I questioned.

I could see her shrug through the white screen door. "Women's intuition."

"Nelly! This is the boy! It's Ichigo!" Urahara chimed as he smothered my face with his hand.

"Please help me." I pleaded her.

"Oh my," she sighed and opened the door immediately "he always gets like this after drinking the sake at Ikumi's. He's light-weight, but he's also extremely weak to sake. And the sake that Ikumi sells are really strong. He handle's beer and wine way better than sake."

She then hooks Urahara's arm over her shoulders and takes him away from me and then shoves the shaggy blonde onto the nearest couch.

"He just needs to rest a while and he'll get better. Some water, fruits, blah blah blah." The women then turns to me and smiles brightly. "I'm Nelly or Nel. Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck if you want to be specific."

"Nope, Nel is fine by me." I said, returning her smile. "I'm Ichigo Kurosaki."

She nodded and stretched out her hand for me to shake. I took it. Nel was a pleasant women, she was also extremely gorgeous. She had bright hazelnut eyes and long teal voluminous hair that reached down to the base of her spine. She was also busty, a curvacious body with an hour-glass figure. Any man's dream girl. Well, any straight or bisexual man. Other than looks, she had this warm, motherly ambiance to her. Her voice was clear and soothing and her smile sent a pang of remembrance and heartache through me. Nel started to shift around a disposable mask around her neck and swiped a trickle of sweat above her brow.

"Sorry, I was cleaning up earlier before you guys came. It's still a bit of a mess, so I hope you don't mind. Did you come here to meet the team?" She asked.

"Yeah. Though I kinda had no choice since Urahara forced me here."

She nodded understandingly. "Urahara can be like that. Don't hate him for this, but he planned to get drunk and force you to drag him back here."

"He what?"

"Yes. I didn't think that he would actually go along with that plan. None of us actually agreed to it because we didn't know that he was actually considering it." Nel explained. "He meant no harm."

"I was going to come here anyways. There was no need for him to get drunk and force me to drag him back here." I rubbed my face, fatigue already attacking my eyes. "Damn it, all that work just to get me here...What the hell, he wasn't the one who had to drag his heavy ass all the way here."

Fucking troublesome.

"Don't worry, I'll pay you back for the bus fare over here." Urahara grumbled, his voice partially muffled by the fabric of the couch.

"And for the ride back to my house."

"Alright." Urahara confirmed.

At least that clears things up.

"The others will arrive soon. Half of the team lives in this house, with an exception of three of the members."

"That seems convenient." I commented, not knowing what else to say.

"Not as much as you think it is." She frowned.

Oh yeah, she's girl*. You could guess that the majority of this household were all boys by her reaction and by how the house was...decorated. The floor was cluttered with random t-shirts, empty bowls with bits of cereal left in them idled on the floor between the couch and coffee table. Nel had seemed to be the only one who had cleaned this room, no help from the guys. Well fuck, I feel sorry for her.

It wasn't like that at my house. We would usually take turns, depending on how open or crowded our schedules were. Sometimes we would clean the whole house all at once or share the work.

"Thirsty?" She asked shortly.

"Nope, I had plenty to drink at Ikumi's." I answered.

Nel then gave me a disapproving look and I found myself stumbling to correct myself.

"I had water. I'm not at the drinking age yet and Ikumi wouldn't have let me drink even if I begged."

Nel nodded, understanding the misapprehension between us. "I know, just thought that you somehow stole a sip from Urahara or something."

I chuckled. "Don't think that would have happened either, he was enjoying that drink too much."

"Yeah," Nel smiled "well even if your not thirsty, your going have to drink later anyways. Some of the team members want to throw a little 'Welcome to the Team' party."

I frowned. "That's not really necessary though..."

"Don't worry, it's a tiny one. The boys are just bringing over some beers and cake. And some soda for you."

A scowl settled within my frown. "Thanks, that's very reassuring."

She laughed, her laughter light and melodic. "Really though, don't sweat it. It'll just all be introductions, eating, and drinking. Nothing extravagant like a college dorm party."

"Mmm, and you'll love Starrk. That fucker's hilarious. I swear, the shit he says in his sleep-" Urahara snorted and burst into a fit of unusual laughter.

Jeezus this guy was odd. "Is he really a detective?" I asked Nel in a hushed voice.

"Yup." She answered. "Don't blame you for doubting it though. You know why he couldn't apply to be an official detective of a police force?" I shook my head. "Because he's not standard. Urahara doesn't meet the basic nor the limits of what it takes to be a part of the force. He's too.."

"Weird, odd, strange?" I listed for her.

"Curious." She finished. "He doesn't think like others, he doesn't need physical evidence. He could just look at a scene and list multiple possibilities of what happened and what's come to be."

"Like Sherlock."

Nel's eyes widened slightly and a finger rushed to her lips as she gestured me to be quiet. She then crane her neck to see Urahara still lying face-flat on the couch, humming the Fast And Furious: Tokyo Drift theme song (by Teriyaki Boyz). Nel then face me again and release a sigh of relief.

"He's really sensitive about that." She said.

"About Sherlock?" I asked, my voice a few decibels quieter.

"He's been a bit obsessed over this t.v show called Sherlock. Apparently, he wasn't too happy about the season's ending."

I frowned and my shoulders slumped completely with disappointment. "You're not joking, huh?" She shook her head like I knew she would. "And here I thought it was something serious like a scarred childhood event or something."

"Did it disappointed you?"

I sighed heavily. "Not really."

I found myself desperately wanting to leave. I don't care about this party and I've already gotten all the information that I needed. I have better things to do than this.

"Who let the detective drink before everyone else?" I jumped at the new voice that has joined us.

I swung my head into the direction of where the voice had came from. Behind me, stood a man who was a bit shorter than me but just as slim as I was. He was quite pale, with short solid black hair and wore a business suit with the blazer open and his tie loose around his neck. The other male paid no mind to me as if I didn't exist and looked right through me and to Nel.

"Ah, Ulquiorra!" Nel chimed with glee. "You're here early, I thought you'd arrive later with your job and all."

"Finished early." He answered shortly.

"How'd you get in here though?" Nel confusingly as she glance at the front door. I thought the exact same thing since I sure as hell didn't hear him come through the front at all.

"I used the back door since I parked in the back. I found it to be a hassle to use the front." He replied before turning to face Urahara's drunken form. "You're really pathetic, you know that?"

"Mr. Schiffer!" Urahara waved a free arm up and down about, but he suddenly rolled off and landed before Ulquiorra's feet. "Have you met Ichigo?"

I was only spared a brief (literally one second) glance from the frigid Ulquiorra. Douchebag.

"Yes, I have."

"Nuh-uh," Urahara said from his position on the floor "gotta be nice Schiffer, you know? Give him the nice old Los Angeles hello."

"There's no such thing as a 'Los Angeles hello'." Ulquiorra said.

"It's fine. I know the guy's name, and he knows mine. That's all that matters right? Well, it is for you isn't it Mr. Schiffer." I said bitterly.

This time, Ulquiorra glare at me, this moment of contact lasting ten seconds longer than the previous one. I didn't dare to budge under the intensity of his threatening emerald green eyes and instead I straightened my posture until I stood my full 5'11 height over his own smaller figure.

"Ulquiorra, please don't start fights that you can't even finish." Another voice joined into the group, tired and gruff.

It was only when Ulquiorra had broken our eye contact that I was able to look to see who had joined us. Another man, slim and seemed to be older as well. Slated grey eyes, tired with dark circles under them. The new male was taller than me by what seemed to be a few inches or more. He had shoulder length wavy nut-brown hair, slightly unkept and parted from the center of his forehead. He also had a goatee, a bit like Urahara.

"You don't know me well enough to say such a thing, Mr. Starrk." Ulquiorra said, his tone bitter yet cautious.

He was keeping the things he said in check, and I noted his actions as a warning for myself towards this 'Mr. Starrk'. I don't know the man yet, but by Ulquiorra's careful tone, I could tell that it's wise not to cross him badly.

Mr. Starrk nodded his head and took the shorter man's reply in a more relaxed way than I had expected.

"Right, but I know that you acknowledge that we can't make enemy's amongst ourselves now, am I right?"

Ulquiorra didn't reply right away, and half a minute later when he did, it was only a small nod. Shitty prick.

"Mahhhh, you guys shouldn't be so stiff in the butt." Is that even a saying or did he just make that up? "This is suppose to to be a welcoming party! We should celebrate the completion of our team and the new member, Ichigo Kurosaki!" From the ground, Urahara pointed at me.

Upon looking at me, Mr. Starrk immediately went into introducing himself. "Coyote Starrk. But I very much appreciate it if you call me Starrk. Not Coyote and not with honorifics like Mister, Sir, and definitely not the Japanese honorific, san. Just plain Starrk." I nodded, overwhelmed with the demanding yet a contradicting lazy tone. He smiled sluggishly and patted me on the shoulder while taking one of my hands and shaking it. "Good kid."

"Ah, I'm-"

"Already know who you are kiddo." Starrk said as he released my hand.

Nel stepped in to explain after Starrk plomped himself onto the couch, legs propped onto the coffee table with Urahara still on the floor and now under his legs. "Hard not to know when your a man who either loves Los Angeles Food District, watched kickboxing, or just a part of this team. To be honest, almost everyone here was anticipating your arrival into the team."

"Almost?"

Nel smiled, and just when she about to explain further into detail, something deeper in the house seemed to have erupted.

"HOLY SHIT IS HE HERE YET?" A manly scream blew right through my ears.

More banging ruckus along with the footsteps of what sound like an elephant. I was expecting hell in human form. And I think I was right. Not even two second later, someone stumbled into the living room from what I could guess was the hallway that lead to the backdoor. I almost burst into laughter if I was not nervous from seeing this man. Pink hair and a whole white outfit, the only thing that stood out about this guy other than his pink hair was his matching white cowboy boots.

_Gawd I hate cowboy boots._

The man was busy fumbling a stack of packed beer cans, swirling around to get a good look of the room and its occupants. He suddenly stopped when he faced me, his golden eyes going wide behind his ivory white-framed glasses and his mouth curling into a delightful smile. And unexpectedly, he threw the packs of beer onto the kitchen counter-top, not caring about whether the cans were damaged or not. _Oh gawd._

"Hey!" Nel yelped.

"It's the boy wonder!" He practically squealed.

I was a bit more thankful that he didn't holler it out like he did earlier. But holy shit, this does nothing to up the impression he's giving me.

"Hey, Apollo, the kid's not going anywhere right now but if you keep screaming like that he sure as hell won't be staying a while for the party." Starrk said, his eyes and nose scrunched up in irritation.

Apollo rolled his eyes and turned to me again. "He's just grumpy cause he's got insomnia and he didn't have his afternoon nap."

To my surprise, Starrk didn't say or did anything to get back at what Apollo had said. I don't know, but for some reason I'm expecting Starrk to be this violent guy who'd hurt you if you piss him off. So far, he's nicer than Ulquiorra had lead on.

" Szayel Apollo Granz. But you may call me Szayel." Szayel greets me again with a handshake and a wink. "Starrk just calls me Apollo because it's easier on him."

I nodded. I didn't bother to try and introduce myself since it seemed like everyone must've known about me already.

"Where's the last guy?" Urahara asked curiously.

"Getting the cake and other beers." Szayel answered.

"Damn, how much did you guys buy?" Urahara asked.

"Enough to get pretty damn wasted."

Nel sighed and shook her head. "You guys better clean up then, I'm out tomorrow to buy some supplies."

"Nelly's so awesome," Urahara sang out as he tapped on Starrk's legs like a drum "she's so prepared and productive getting the supplies and -"

"The shithead's drunk already?"

Silence.

It was odd, because of all the times a conversation in this house has been either interrupted or added to, there was never really a pause. Well, there was a pause but usually they were all short, like five seconds or less. But this one, it must've went for twenty seconds. I know twenty seconds doesn't really seem so long. But when those twenty seconds are in a length of the silence in a conversation, it's long. And awkward.

I didn't know what was their reason for staying quiet all of a sudden, but I had some to why I had. One, I'd rather be talked to first before I introduce myself. Two, it suddenly gotten too awkward to say something. Three, what the hell can I say to cut the tension of this conversation? And finally, four:

_Goddamn his voice was absolute, pure sex. _

Everything about this man had sucked the air right out of my lungs.

Wide, broad shoulders. Thick, strongly corded neck. His sinewy arms were exposed by a black wife-beater, displaying the fantastic view of toned muscles rippling under lightly bronzed skin as he carried a few stacks of packed beer cans(and a cake on top). He wore baggy, gray sweatpants over his long legs which hung a few inches below his hips. The man was also taller than me, his height towering over me as he pierced me with his intense blue eyes.

Nel gave an exasperated breathe of relief as she held a hand up to her throat. "Jeezus, I still can't get used to your voice Grimmjow." She said. "You scared the hell out of me."

Urahara let out a ridiculous giggle. "You gotta stop growing Grimmy, or else you gon' give lil' Nelly here a heart-attack before she gets married."

"Shut up." Nel pouted.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, breaking eye contact with me. "We're starting or are we just gonna talk about this bullshit again?"

"Well we could do that, since we first have to completely introduce ourselves to Ichigo here." Ulquiorra said, his sarcastic tone lighter upon saying my name.

I let it go. Grimmjow mumbled a 'fine'. Urahara dragged himself from his hiding place between the coffee table and the couch, and stood to sit on the armrest of the couch.

"Nelly can go first." Urahara said. "We'll go by the order of who Ichigo met first."

"Um, well, I'm a fashion design major. Urahara assigned me to handle the clothing and disguises of the team. But we highly doubt the need for disguises. Me and Urahara were once colleagues in a community college in-"

"Nelliel, I don't think it's necessary to go into your life's story for Ichigo right now, you could do that later." Ulquiorra said. Nel frowned a bit but agreed. "You already know me as Ulquiorra Schiffer. My job in the team is simple. I handle the gadgets and other technologies that will be used in this team; communication, surveillance, and tracking. I hope that Urahara has already informed you of the tracking device that will be place on you. The same will go for all the other team members as well."

I nodded and Ulquiorra did the same in recognition of my acknowledgement. Stark came next.

His greeting was simple and short. "I'm a lawyer, B.L** degree." Szayel snorted and Starrk gave him a glare. "I will be focusing on what evidence we can use against Sousuke when we report and prosecute him. I will also be the lawyer who will lead our defendant's case in the future."

"Will I be the defendant?" I asked.

"You will be one of them." He answered. "Apollo's turn."

"Well, I'm a 5-year college graduate, Dr's ed., a dermatologist major with some backgrounds in cosmetology. I have two kids, though they're adopted-"

"Szayel." Ulquiorra cut him off.

"Damn it fine. To make it short, I'll handle your skin care and make you look pretty." Szayel hummed, tapping his chin. "Kinda intimidating for me since you look okay already."

"Thanks?" I really hope this guy wasn't coming on to me.

Everyone then turned to the last occupant of this from, the last to introduce himself. Grimmjow.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, body guard." He shoved his hands into his sweatpants. "That's all."

Ulquiorra snorted. "Simple as it gets."

Grimmjow glared daggers at the tepid young man. "Let's just start up the binge."

"Nu-uh." Nel snapped at Grimmjow, slapping his larger hand away from the packs of beers. "You're not of age."

Szayel laughed. "You done all the other adult shit, but you still can't drink."

"Or buy porn." Urahara adds.

Grimmjow made a frustrated grunt and snagged a cola bottle from the plastic bindings. With his bottle of soda, he retreated to the kitchen and into a direction where I couldn't see him from my position in the living room. The other team members, all 21 or above, dove in for their share of beer. Nel handed me a cola bottle and snapped the cap off with a bottle cap opener. Nel began with the details that she earlier meant to say before Ulquiorra interrupted. She told me how she was a colleague of Urahara back at a community college, but she only knew him for about a year. Strangely, after that year was over, Urahara disappeared. Nel assumed that he had dropped out early or switch to another university. Three years later, Urahara contacted her again, asking her for a huge favor; the same Urahara had asked me.

"And you accepted, even though you guys haven't talked for three years?" I asked bewildered.

She nodded. "Hard to believe, I know, but we were both after the same thing. Basically, everyone here is after the same thing actually."

"You all want Sousuke behind bars?"

"Yes." She answered. "We all have a sense of an unfulfilled vengeance towards him."

"Like what?" I blurted out in a tone that seemed insensitive.

I pursed my lips as soon as I noticed what had slipped passed me. I knew this conversation was shifting over to a sensitive topic.

"I'll just say we are all involved with him because of the few of the team members in here." Nel winked teasingly.

I scoffed lightly and took a sip from my cola. Urahara and Szayel began to sing Funky Town by Lipps Inc. Urahara seemed already smashed while Szayel was just tagging along with the blonde's drunken singing. Ulquiorra and Starrk watched from the comfort of the couch, Starrk's eyes barely open while Ulquiorra sat in his place, completely unimpressed by anything splayed before him. Nel continued to talk about her experiences through out college and how odd Urahara was (such as the weird things he would eat and how he could impersonate any accent around the world perfectly). But I was growing bored with her conversation. Nel was a genuinely sweet women, kind and adorable, but I was in no way interested in anything she was saying. In the end, my eyes would randomly stray away to wonder and observe my surroundings. Unconsciously, I found Grimmjow.

He was hunched over the sink, slowly swishing the cola bottle around in his hand as he glared at the outside through the kitchen window. Grimmjow was too far for me to see the exact details of his face. But I could see enough of him to notice the intensity of the scowl he had, blue brows scrunched and knitted tight together as the muscles of his jaws tensed and loosened each time he clenched them. Grimmjow raised his cola bottle to his his lips and I found myself admiring how full and tempting they were.

"Nelly!"

The shout jerked me from staring. I had forgotten that I was suppose to be listening to Nel. But it seemed that Nel hadn't notice the lack of my attention. She was still talking, her eyes on her beer can as she tried to scrape away the designs with her nails while talking to me simultaneously. When they called her the second time, she rolled her eyes, brushing it off as a part of the other men's drunken rants.

"Nelly, hun, dove, the love of our life!" Urahara started to dance _almost_ gracefully in our direction. He placed a hand over one of Nel's shoulder and grinned stupidly. "Sing with us!"

"No." Nel pouted. "I want to talk to Ichigo."

"Nelllly~!" Urahara whined. "Let Ichi go, you're suffocating him."

Does he even know what he's saying?

"Nnn, okay." Nel then moved closer to their group so she could sing Funky Town along with the other two.

Gawd, is she a light weight too?

I shrugged it off and took another sip of the cola. Again, my eyes began to wander about, drawing back to the direction of Grimmjow. Last thing I had expected was to have eye contact with those daunting blue eyes. I choked on my drink a bit, my lungs started to spasm as I struggled not to make it obvious and embarrass myself. I blinked off into another direction and acted as if I never intended to look at him. Although, unconsciously, I did.

At the corner of my eyes, I could see him stride closer to me. His steps were slow and taunting, but his towering height was considerately intimidating. As my heart drummed frantically against my chest, Grimmjow swiftly passed me. Should I feel relieved that he said nothing to me? At the moment, I felt utterly conflicted on whether I should be relieved or disappointed. But shit, I guess I should feel relieve since I surprised the fuck out of myself and also placed myself an awkward situation. Not my worst but it doesn't make things better.

I decided to look back at Grimmjow only to see him grimacing at Urahara's singing. By now, Urahara and Nel appeared passed buzzed, while Szayel was only following along with their drunken acts. Starrk and Ulquiorra are still the same. Groggy. Stoic. I'm not surprised. I glanced back at Grimmjow and he was now leaning against the wall next to the couch, his eyes no longer grimacing in Urahara's direction but now mine. He caught me glancing at him and the grimace in his ice blue eyes have turned to annoyance and distaste.

_Shit. _I gulped.

Grimmjow took a swig of his cola before pushing himself off of the wall. He then pointed the tip of the glass bottle accusingly in my direction, catching the attention of everyone in the room to me and Grimmjow. The singing stopped and my heart sped up in fear of where this situation was going. Down-fucking-hill.

"What's with the staring?" He growled out.

"What?" I croaked out.

My mouth was dry and my heart was pumping at an insane rate, fuelled by fear and embarrassment.

"You were staring at me." Grimmjow narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. "Do you like me or something?"

"Grimmjow!" Nel gasped, appalled by Grimmjow's disrespectful accusations. But she was left ignored as he didn't apologize.

"That's kinda narcissistic of you, you know." The words spilled from my mouth but I was grateful that they were something not degrading.

Grimmjow snorted. "I know how you were staring at me. And it wasn't once but three times you were staring. Seriously, are you gay or something?"

My stomach churned as I began to feel the urge to throw-up. The anxiety and the stress of this situation was sending me into an anxiety attack. First one I had in years.

_Keep it together Ichigo. Don't be a fucking cunt. I ain't hiding shit, why the fuck should I be afraid right now? So what if I think the shithead is attractive, doesn't mean shit if he finds out._

"Yeah, I am gay." I snapped. "So the fuck what? You gonna be a fuckin' homophobic prick about it? If so, I don't fuckin' give a crap. But if you give me shit and try and mess with me physically, _I'll give you hell back_."

Third time today, silence. Everyone was stunned, mouths gaped slightly and eyes wider than their usual. Even Ulquiorra showed a mild expression of surprised (quirked eyebrows and his eyes were _slightly_ wider). While everyone gawked at me, Grimmjow kept his eyes narrowed and threatening. Clumsily, Urahara attempted to cut the tension of our atmosphere.

"How about we cut the cake? Ulquiorra got it from this wonderful bakery so it must be delicious." Urahara stumbled to the kitchen counter where the cake was placed. "It's strawberry!"

Everyone then went along with Urahara's attempt to change the subject and fell into a line to get cake. I rolled my eyes and chugged the last of my cola. I definitely wanted to leave now.

Szayel then caught my attention with an awkward wave of his hand."Uh, Ichigo just to make things clear, um..." He startled to stumble on his words and uncomfortably rubbed the back of his head. "How can I say this without seeming so shallow. Er, well, I just want to clear up any confusion and say that I'm not gay, I just acted like it earlier just for giggles."

"No problem." I said quickly as I really didn't care.

I wasn't in the mood to really take in what Szayel had said and really think about it, so I couldn't determine if it was offensive or not. I just wanted to leave.

"I gotta leave." I announced as I threw my bottle in the the kitchen's trash bin.

"But Ichigo, cake." Urahara frowned.

"Sorry, not really hungry from all the sushi earlier."

Nel suddenly flicked Grimmjow's ear. "Damn it, look what you did!"

"I didn't do shit!" Grimmjow growled at her.

"We're sorry for Grimmjow's rude and abrupt behavior. He can be-" I interrupted Starrk.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm not leaving because of him." I lied. "I just need to go home 'cause I got things to do."

"You're still apart of the team, right?" Urahara asked worriedly.

"Yes." I answered, unfortunately, it was the truth.

I didn't want to continue on here in this stupid 'party', but damnit, I really want to pursue this case. Suddenly, this case had become important to me. That man, Sousuke, was despicable for what he did and I want to see him get the punishment that should have be served a long time ago. This team seemed like a mess, and already, some of us are not getting along. But I was determined to try hard and get the Sousuke bastard locked up. I'll just have to endure all this bullshit.

"Bye Bye Ichi-Boy!"

_God fucking damnit._

* * *

**I made so many EYK references out loud while I was writing this. (My roommate got me into EYK) I was tempted to make Urahara sing EYK's version of Junsu's "Intoxication" but then I was like "Nooo." I felt like that would make Urahara more OOC than he already is.**

***Well goddamn Ichigo, that was sexist. Was it?**

****B.L : Bachelor of Law. Sometimes abbreviated as LL.B.**

**Welp, review or tell me of any mistakes that I made! :3**


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